Monday evenings…

I am listening to Ghulam Ali’s “Yeh dil ye pagal dil mera – Awaragi” as I type this post. And as the Winamp enters its 6th iteration,

Ghulam Ali Sahab: Lafz hain “Kal raat tanhaa Chaand ko dekha tha maine khwaab mein”. Matka peeche se bajaye.

Me: Waah waah.Tanha chaand. Arrey Matke bajao bhai. Phd bhi bajao saath mein.

[State of mind dekho ladke ka]. In tune with that of a Beauty Contest participant’s. All we want is world peace and some pasta. By the way, what is with this world peace thing? Even Tushar Kapoor wants it. Abbey apne liye kaam hi maang ley Santa se. World peace to Obama uncle dilwaa hi rahe hain naa.

And I digress. I have just finished reading a book called “Living with the Himalayan Masters“. As the name suggests, it obviously has references to Indian philosophy, myths of ascetics and little bit of gyaan on spirituality. Enough to raise queries on “Kya ho gaya bhai! Boss se itna pareshaan?”. “Nahi yaar. All izz well”

And although I reasonably empathize with people who would say that it seems vague and unrelated to our way of life, I do believe that one should at least give a look to this way of living. Its not about religion being an opiate for masses or spirituality confused with HR fundaes for old and brooding. Believe me as I was going through the book, I could feel that there is a huge charm to this mostly confused philosophy which our intoxicated brain does not appreciate. Maybe because we were never hard pressed to study them at school. We were never graded for our moral science lectures and were not exposed to them in a way math and science was eulogized. I am in no way undermining the importance of sciences and engineering and management in our life, just wanted to share something which I feel I lacked an appreciation for.  Or maybe I am just high on the song.

But do believe me when I say this. Yours truly will be going on a lunch with his CEO. Not that it’s such a big thing to mention n all. No ways… Oh your curiosity. Okay. A chauffeur driven car – a five star hotel – All expenses paid. Thank you

While my CEO was discussing higher pursuits like “How to utilize your  waking working hours to maximize your potential and increase your knowledge base”  and “How recent studies by Harvard  and Wharton are showing the shifts  in Job satisfaction paradigm from high payrolls to quality work”,  I (inspired by the Center Fresh – Zubaan pe Lagaam ads) cared to ask some questions on the lines of “sarr! salary kab badegi?” “Compensation driven motivation for corporate excellence”.

Clearly, this spark of bravery did not go unnoticed and I have been invited on a lunch with the CEO himself. Just to let the wisdom seep in, you know.

I half expect a mineral water bottle landing on my face with a pink card sticking out of it but just in case I make it to the menu card, tell me what is good at the Hotel Leela Palace, Old Airport Road, Bangalore. [Standard dekho ladke ka]

One sleepless night and a brigade road business

What would you do if after a long day at work you come back home and your landlady tries to tell you something about a loud annual ceremony destined to take away your sleep and hints about how a few cotton plugs and sleeping pills could help you prevent your little 2012.

Now if you are a 6′5” broad shoulders, six pack laden, fella you would say “Whatthafcuk. Listen women, call up your man. Let me tell what I feel about loud bangs” and other such big words that could give a whole new definition to the theory of  Dominating landlord – Docile tenant.

But as time and again, I do realize I am as large and wide as a chota Rajpal Yadav, I gleefully chose to tell her how cool I would be even if they plan to make me sit in the center of the whole karnatic music thing. All night. Non stop.

I could not sleep the whole night. She literally meant the word ‘loud’. I tried stuffing all the cotton till I could see it coming through my ear-mouth pipeline making me look like a genetically engineered snowman but to no avail. In no time it was 9, the next morning, and I was searching for stapler pins to keep my eyes open.

Those who know me can swear their lives when I say that I am usually the kinda  guy with chivalry and mannerisms so explicit that girls uphold me to the status of Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pride and Prejudice. But with days nights like these, I get transformed into the guy who won’t give a rat’s ass might absent mindedly end up trampling 20 pretty girls on his way to coffee machine and slamming the door on the 21st. Wicked no!

So the following day I saw myself forgetting to close the Jam bottle to the delight of all the red ants at home and then spraying almost a whole HIT insect killer on the bottle to the delight of  Mortien people, expressing irritably visible emotions for that South Indian damsel who was making a large sand dune of rice on her platter at the mess counter line, and making my workplace lively by cooing ‘Moniccaaa… Oh my…‘ stupefying ladies across the cubicle.

I had also goofed up on a Sales projection report for which I confidently blamed my power point for not saving changes. Why do I have to mention this! In case I get thrown out please contribute with some money.

And then there is something with me and people with small eyes, weird hairstyles, large gory arm tattoos (chinks I meant). Earlier it was Guwahati now its Bangalore. How come I find every third guy on the Brigade Road having close resemblance with Bruce Lee or Jakie Chan or Jiten Soikia (IIT G fame). And the way these female chinks dress up and sashay around the streets, I wonder if they were born in the waiting room of a beauty parlor and did their kinder garden studies there too!

Its one thing being smoking hot. Dressing up in teasingly scanty halters and almost vanishing shorts with glaring beads and colorful shoes is potent enough to make you recollect Jessica Alba from Sin City. Eh, no, you actually are mouth wide open. Who has time for any recall.

Anyways, case in point is the increasing population of chinks in Bangalore. One of my senior from IIT has opened a tea shop. Chinks loves noodles. I don’t love my job. Who in Bangalore wants to make quick money. You get the idea, right! Call me    

Chill madi boss, why chuma tension?

I guess now this blog might as well serve for  “Complete Idiot’s guide to learn Kannada”. But then this was an easy phrase. I mean even if your IQ levels give ego boost to a dodo, you can get what the auto driver meant to say when I get late for my early morning corporate management review meetings. See my jet setter life style. (Wink. The power of implied meanings).

Coming back to my handicap at comprehending the local lingo. Few days back, I got this call from an unknown number. Note that I had neatly blocked the Airtel-Bangaluru promotional calls which were hell bent on selling me a hip local song for Hello-tune. So it could either be a Head hunter from a  multi-million dollar company looking for high performing executives or my cable operator exhausting cellphones to get me pay his 2 month bill. Who are we kidding. I knew it would be latter so I chose to hear the other end first.

Me: ~ silent ~

Head hunter/Cable walaa:  ~ Something in Kannada…. Harish… something more ~

Me (oh god. not again):  Sorry, wrong number.

Wrong number guy: ~ Some more Kannada ~

Me: Yaar aapka galat numb.. Wrong number. Check number Okay? Bye

(After 5 minutes. The same guy calls up)

Wrong number guy: ~ Some really fast Kannada ~

Me: Dude. Don’t panic. Wrong number. No Harish here. Galat number! Galat!

Since that day I have been receiving many more of such calls. I am thinking to put some serious bhojpuri Hello-tune to scare them. But you don’t freak out. Savor the song. I will pick your call.

So it has been three months here. I have seen people eating some really large quantities of rice with sambhar dripping off their right arm elbow and asking for more. I have climbed up wrong buses and got thrown all around the city. I have put up late night on Tele Brand Ads with nude firangs saying “Fir mere dost Tony ne mujhe motaapa ghataney ka ye asaan tareeka bataya“. I have wondered why sporting a mustache and dancing with a pot belly is such a macho thing that fairer beauties here go head over heals in movies. And in real life too.

Anyways, Radio does seems like the movie every body is waiting for. Sudhanshu and I are already so excited about the promos that few office mates are concerned about us. The way we delectably rehearse the dialogues will make them quarantine us at lunch tables. So I have a CAT to write and a movie to watch on 5th.

And I just remembered I have to send an excel file with lots of numbers to my manager who is a believer of the philosophy “To err is human, to forgive is not the company’s policy”. I better shut this down. Till then you chill madi.

In the service of my lord – Reshamiya

While people all over were busy speculating the end of world, capturing horrible realities of Jail and useless Utopian delights of Alladin or  kids romancing over-age Aamna Shariff, only one man after Obama, had the vision and determination also surgical hair and nasal voice to bring forward the perplexing realities of youth in a short yet apt title RADIO. Its all about relations.

The actor who re-defined cinema with “Aap Kaa Suroor: The Real Luv Story”, “Karzzzzz”. The human being who (visibly) stood against gender bias when needed *. The eternal motivator who lauded SaReGaMa contestants (one and all) with an indifferent  “Fantastic, mind blowing, superb, outstanding HISTORY” even when the performance was worthy of putting a toad to shame.

Gentlemen I give you……. Falsetto

Look into my eyes and sing.

Some hot radio chic: What’s your relationship status?
My Lord (visibly contemplative): Its constipated complicated.

This one snippet of a probably large conversation has been a hit since the promos were aired. You cannot just have any other actor modulating the voice in the manner he does. Separate issue, he can’t help it.

I am sure none of you would have been able to escape (such is the charm) from the omnipresent promos of the upcoming release. The deep philosophies which the songs bring with them: “Rafa Dafa kiya nahi jaaye” aka you cannot run from realities, “Teri Meri Dosti Ka Aasmaan” realize the all-giving fraandship, “Damad jee angana mein padhare” a soothing number for the older generation, “Zindagi Jaise Ek Radio” self explanatory (topping all Bangladeshi charts).

The movie promises to delight and amaze the shit outta you with its grounded and real performance and not to mention the advice which my master shall give you in the garb of an RJ. One of them which perhaps made me stick to my office and write this post,  “Bhagane ki baat sochna bhi mat mere dost“. Yess sir.

Anyways, just like Aamir Khan  who would entertain only few movies an year, The H-Man is also very selective about the social message he sends through his antics acting in films. I am already so excited that I am planning to change my hello tune to ‘Mann ka radio bajne de zaraa‘. Will be booking advance ticket – lounge area – prime time 5th December, anyone?

* The great Reshamiya up for a cause.

 

er…

quote of the day.

I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped. - a btech’09 in an interview.

few (perverse) jam topics.

Love these. A senior (now in IIMC) helped me with them. They were proposed to be used for the extempore/just a minute competitions at Alcheringa but then respecting the sanity of crowds and the insanity of these liners, we had to come down to  earthly topics like blackboard, if I were the PM et al

• Marriage changes passion… suddenly you’re in bed with a relative ?
• So much is spent on breast implants and Viagra but almost none on Alzheimer’s. Soon there will be people with big tits and massive erections but won’t remember what for ?
• The problem with men is that God gave them a brain and a (insert the apt anatomy). But only enough blood to run one at a time
• Nobody dies a virgin. Life fucks all.
• Opinion is like an ass hole, everyone has one.

And this one is particularly naice :

• Avoid rape – say yes.

hehe

Data structures and placements

Who would have thought that one day a mere tree (the binary one) could get you through the portals of IT giants. That all those Rayleigh distributions, and multi process control statements would be nothing but well mmm.. nothing in front of the almighty C and C++.

Since the blogger and his friends have succumbed to the almighty authority of the single letter C, they are hereby paying their allegiance by developing the all new Data-Struct-Smilies, hence forth to be referred to as DSS in the Pint-OS compiler kernel.

What is Pint-OS?

You donno? Sorry, we don’t entertain the jobless. smirks.

Anyways, contribute to the list. Promote and Add.

~ Rohit Pande and Rohit Bahl.

Your Horoscope, this endsems :)

Admittedly, I have gone insane. I have a test tomorrow and this is the 3rd one for the day. Blame it on lack of motivation but anyways. The idea has been inspired from a St. Stephens weekly, Kooler Talk.

Sagittarius (nov 23 – dec 21): Lately it may seem as if you’re losing your mind, but don’t worry. Watching FRIENDS, SCRUBS and reading such horoscopes are perfectly normal. After all, we expect nothing less from a fuck-up like you. Get some life. Join hands with the blogger.

Libra (sept 24 – oct 23): The stars apologize for last week’s prediction of untold fame and fortune. They keep forgetting that you actually believe in this crap. Anyways, while it’s true that the universe works in mysterious ways, it’s becoming pretty clear what it has against you

Leo (july 24 – aug 23): God will shine. His divine light on you this week, instantly blinding you with His infinite carelessness. The look on your face will be priceless this week. Your stress-management technique of taking long, deep breaths will prove disastrous this week when you write the fateful paper.

Aquarius (jan 21 -  feb 19): The stars indicate impeccable scores, easy end semesters, and a complete spiritual fulfillment this week. Happy now ?

Aries (mar 21 – apr 20): After months of quiet introspection, you’ll finally come out of your shell this week, appalling and disgusting everyone with your squirming, mucous-covered flesh. Oh and with all due respect of your illustrious plans for the week, our sincere condolences.

Attractive Girls Union Refuses To Talk With Mike Greenman

Its like you define stupidity, you sink a bit deeper, then you see Love Story 2050. And then you see this video.

Attractive Girls union give a press release on how some Greenman guy should dress and look or else not talk to them.

PS: if nothing else, look for that girl on the left. And there is an arbitrator involved also. phew! what am I putting on my blog these days

I am not even drunk–how is that possible?

Note: Everything shall wait now. I so love myself! Look at this epitaph (link ahead). For jakhar, with love.

or maybe at 6 in morning, I am writing and hallucinating, both.

That first semester routine; wake up – brush – bath – breakfast. In fact mornings such as these remind me of Math-101, Dosas on weekends, morning teas with Tunni and Dubey, Shady’s laoud cassette player, the start of the glorious Chandi (read Chandrol) era, Naagori’s infatuation with mangal pande and consequently with me.

I remember that day when I was forced asked to call up at home and find out if and how we know Mangal Pande. The concerned mother replied in negative and requested me not to fancy any further chances with some Bajpais or Khuranas concerning Atal Bihari or Madan Lal Khurana. How I wish I could tell her, I am being ragged. That Nagori guy was 6 feet tall!

Next task was to dance ‘Kajra re’.

The lobby mates: me, Rahul (this naarcissist made us call him shady), Chintu (the guy next door), Sanjeev and Subodh and an Msc.

If Barney were to define a cool-stud-fast graph and Rahul were to be called the ‘Rawalpindi express’, I would safely be the ‘Sampark Kranti’ but these two, Sanjeev and Subodh, will undoubtedly and affectionately be called “The Slow Brahmaputra Mail That Is Currently Broken Down At Bongaigaon Station. Passengers approach ticket counter for refund please“.

(deep breath)

I mean there were moments when even the resolute me, determined not to laugh and yet again perform that after laugh therapy (musky) could not help but wonder and stare agape, aghast, dumbfounded at the moralistic replies they used to recite verbatim to some common ragging queries and propositions like, “girlfriends? “, ” running commentary on this mute video. smirks “, ” sizes and frequencies”.

They surely made their parents proud (ahem ) but almost all of the times, I was left to do the honors .

Coming back to the Shady and co. well.. umm they were the then  ‘we don’t give a crap buddy. You fuck with us, we give bumps‘. I mean you peep into the room and you find four five of them jumping to the scores of ‘Rape me’, ‘Zombie’ and similar s. Disturbingly so, it happened when one day, that they were shouting high ‘alice! alice! who the fugg is alice‘ and this concerned lobby dude comes up and nudges “Isshhh.. ye Kya ho gaya inhe? Do you know her!“. Phew! ( oh nooo! not again please ) Good he didn’t meet me when they were worshipping nirvana.

more nostalgia. will write it soon. abhi padhai

few good men and their jokes :P

I am not a racist. I fear people but then this site link from Bahl was just irresistible.

Few good men:

One tourist from U.S.A. asked to Sardar: Any great man born in this village???

Sardar: no sir, only small Babies!!!

The modest man:

Santa went to mysore palace.

Tourist guide – santaji plz dont sit there, its Tipu sultan’s chair

Santa – oye dont worry yaar i’ll get up when he comes.!!..

Kaafi creative stuff:

teacher: make a sentence in which 1 word repeated 4 times

SANTA: lara dutta marries brian lara and she becomes lara lara

The chase:

A donkey kicked SANTA & ran away

SANTA ran to catch the donkey. He saw a zebra & started beating it &

said ’saley Tracksuit pahan ke dhoka de raha hai’.

will post more!

kaafi creative hai ye!

Now that we know the end,  we can laugh on

Q: What is the definition of optimism?
A: An investment banker ironing five shirts on a Sunday night

Q: What is the one thing Wall St and the Olympics have in common?
A: Synchronised diving

Q: What is the difference between a pigeon and a merchant banker?
A: A pigeon can still put a deposit on a Ferrari

Q: What do you say to a hedge fund manager who can’t short-sell anything?
A: Quarter pounder with fries please

Q: How many commodities traders does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None, they don’t change bulbs; but the trading price of darkness plummets due to oversupply

hehe. naice!

The Bakarz 2.0: editorial

This magazine has been brought to you by the creative (ahem!) genius of two good-for-nothing jerks and their team of gullible writers brain-washed into believing that they are a part of something historic and enthrallingly significant.

They say “Laughter is the best medicine”. But the same is not true for Bakarz, for some of our humor is bound to get on people’s nerves. And just in case laughter IS the best medicine, why don’t we have Goofy as the IIT-G doctor serving Bakarz 2.0 instead of “Panther” as everyone else there.

But we digress.

This being the second issue of a wannabe humor sensation that is Bakarz, we decided to do away with pathetic articles copied from elsewhere, and replace them with filth written by us. ( No Inzamam-type-inspired articles this time around, thank you very much! ) We sink much lower though. For the first time in our rather short and un-illustrious history, we bring to you the perspective of an average IITian female, and analyze the single minded devotion of a summer intern. (you know the one that culminates with 50 euros)

With pearls of wisdom pouring in from our jobless alumni (Lehman goes bankrupt) with an equally devastating review of the box office hit (?) ‘Love Story 2050’.

Our language, as you will learn in the subsequent pages, has been given an ISO 9001 certificate for purity. If, however, your perverted mind comes across phrases that seem to have naughty connotations, LAUGH. Fall of the chair. Roll. Kick.

But keep them to yourself – We cannot afford to pay off the admin, you see…

Phew!! Finally we would request the administration to bestow upon us the tag of Conveners of the Bakarz. We promise that we would not compete with Techniche and Alcher people for the schlum job.

The Editors.

an excerpt from the editorial, the Bakarz

focus. now. please!

“Welcome to the institute of insomnia therapy.

In case of mild insomnia, study notes of ec430 for about five minutes. If the feeling of sleepiness are stronger, a brief overlook of ec 662 would do the needful. Please do not try to go into the depth. A coma might be suspected.

If however both of these methods do not work, then the only treatment left is slightly dangerous. Neither we nor our department takes any responsibility as the after effects of the therapy might entail eternal coma, nausea, retardation, identity loss etal. Try attending a morning session of the former course. Do it for two days continuously.”

Rohit Pande.

Bakarz.me

scribbled something of this sort on two a3 papers at the core one canteen.

[Depts. at IITG]

• DoD: at iitg, either you are in design or you are not*.

• Electronics n Communications: this too shall pass

• Math n Computing: This wont pass. It does never. May the force be with you.

• Msc. Maths: “Lehman Bros. go bankrupt”

• Electrical EEE: hi peeps

• Computer science: cout<<”hello world”;

• Biotech engineering: ahem. hehee. sorry

• Engineering physics: Electric field is a tensor vector.

• Mechanical engineering: screw up safely. For mechanical engineers.

PS: I am taking outta magazine named as “The Bakarz”. If you think you can be funny with words, pour in random ideas. They might help us (the team).

~ Rohit Pande

* only cadence is cooler than design!

7th semester and still rolls on.

If Jim Carry of ‘ A series of unfortunate events” were to make a part two, I wouldn’t mind starting my career* from Hollywood. When people frown and say that they cannot change or alter their “kismet ki lakeerein”, just like the biggest B, Amitabh Bachchan cried ” Jao jaake uss insaan ko pakdo jisne mere haath pe likha hai “mera baap gabbar hai” [ Link courtesy Simpu Singh : baap = gabbar ], I should plain simply put that mine is written with an invisible ink and I am so broke that I cannot even buy a blue bulb to read what is written leave alone rubbing it off.

I have not submitted a single assignment this sem (old), have missed two quizzes (new), gave one. screwed one (old), am alone in all the lab groups (new ), yet to assess the gravity of a btp and decide upon a topic (interestingly new), went home (abruptly absurd) and missed a week of college**.

I have realized that exams and me share a perfect understanding. We are not meant for each other. when Deka claims that I cannot do intelligent stuffs like proving frensel’s inequality, entropy relations of a homogenious system, programming sensor networks, he is right. If I say that I don’t want to, it is mocked as a beggar renouncing the riches for he cannot have them!

May be I cannot. May be I am plain smug in not giving a damn*** and all I can do is bakar. But still it is seventh semester and life rolls on .

~ Rohit.

PS: detailed expalantions of all the *s. [ Gives a professional look of conditions apply ]

* Lehman Bro’s have dissapointed me and Pinky [for reading abt Pinky and her exploits, here's the link]. We are serious about our jaab prospects (if any). Painting signboards, Baby sitting, Fassion photographer ( for hers by her. her==pinky ). Please help.

** our college is an IIT. Location does not matters. Every one will stink equally after the awesome placement season this year!

*** damn. yaa rite. as if I can

zoink! zoink!

CB, in his first novel wrote somewhere “There are times in your life when you wish the frame to freeze and you could undo what you want”.

 

Note: CB bole to Chetan Bhagat. Referring to people with their initials is fun. I called out loud to my friend to check for PC in 2020. Dear family members took it for a personal computerJ. We obviously know it is Chopra.

 

PC se yaad aaya ‘Harman Baweja’. Read somewhere that people voted him as gay . In fact (sorry PC), his voice inspires me to try for saregamapa auditions

 

Sample this:

 

HB (on radio mirchi): Hey you all you dilli people. This is Harman Baweja on Radio Mirchi 98.3 and its hottt!

Listeners: Puke!

HB: It was overwhelmingly great to see you all turning up for me at the Tata sky challenge and also win easy prizes.

Listeners: Precisely the reason

 

Okay, digressed quite a lot. We move back to that fateful date, 25^th june, 2008 when I almost felt like reaching to CB and say, “freeze this frame”. I was done with my bimonthly affair of “big bro going mehrbaan, allowing his cute smart young bro (all you females here’s a cue) to get himself a t-shirt” when I chose to volunteer for my sisters, struggling at the sari counter for almost half an hour. IITian as we are, we tend to get restless when we are not giving fundaes. With this burning desire to display my saree sense coupled with a complete lack of knowlwdge whatsoever in the domain, I innocently inquired what size of saree they were looking for.

 

What ensued henceforth was a deathly silence forcing me to look up at the counter and find people staring at me with “Which planet brother!”, “When’s your treatment”… etal. For my relatives, this was another proof of abysmal standards of higher education in India. I was hushed hooshed away to men’s section.

 

How on earth is a guy supposed to know that sarees have no size. How can this at all be related to his IIT education! I felt so helpless and utterly amused that I came back to my bro on sofa. We had our dinner then. I ate. They laughed. Then I ate their share too.

 

I am becoming useful day by day. I am both changing and getting changed by people around me. After the kajra re incident, I am a dude at office. I introduced many people to a phenomena called “sud” on Radio Mirchi. “Aggar kissi dilli waley ne nahi suna isse to kripya karke chullu bhar paani mein doob mare”.  This guy can kill you with his jokes.

 

I can now give ‘lowe’ advice to my friends and quite effectively so, until they do no ask me for honest opinions! (ladies, here’s your second hint!)

 

Courtesy a junior of mine, I got re introduced to my old, lost sanskaras . I plan to dive into history books and find the origin of my clan. See if you can help.

 

I have been testified by some people as a certified something. They say that I am moving towards a state where I can even make dead rise from their grave and laugh. (third signal, it is).

 

Chalo bhai we will pack up. Its late at night. We have to get up early. Go to office. Plug in the pen drive. Post it on the blog!

 

PS: a friend of mine wrote this super cool post on ways to circumvent work at office. See if you can contribute ( http://navdeepjk.wordpress.com/).   

 

 

office-office

Latest developments:

Of all the things I didn’t know/expected of my office, this was the worst! My comp’s speaker outlet is connected to one of the central zone (audible to 5 cubicles). I played “Kajra re” and rest you can imagine. Neways read on…

My mail box reads: Make her moan in pleasure all night; Anjelina joile’s victoria secret shoot; She would never leave you…. (elders to note: I haven’t registered at a single site. I have no hand in it!). I sit at my techie office staring at this 1820 page microcontroller manual, trying to understand its pipeline architectured bus, power management modes.

Wrong chap you try. I tell these advertisment firms.

Anyways, my mentor comes up to my desk, checking where his (supposedly) prodigal iitian intern has progressed in reading the material. The ever clever intern had already sensed his footsteps and moved to page no. 873, eyes glued, hands scurrying rapidly on the book, face feigning an iisc researchr’s look.

Mentor: So Rohit, pretty much progressed haan? oh! so you have read the e300 core part! Nice innovation there I tell ya’

Mentee: (abbey yeh kya page skip ho gaya!) sheepish grin.

Mentor: You know these motorolla cellphones. Have you played games on them. These processors get too hot you know!.. You know what cools it down??

Mentee: Gulped!! (Navratna tel ehh…) Sir I am still to read that. But I am awed by the concept of this 8313ee core. I ll come to you if I have problem. Sigh! (please go).

The only respite I get is when I meet those Manipal, Bits pilani interns. Interns become dudes .

Dude 1: Chill yaar… Anyways any good series you’ve seen back there?

Dude 2: Yeah. Prison Break. All time fav.

Dude 1: Micheal Scofield … man ossummm.

Dude 2: Sona jail. Ohh man what an escape… [this goes on for abt half an hour when we realize that we are at office].

I am shuttting this post for a while.. I fear they have some techie vigilence . But I am not done yet! See for more updates

 

Dear(est) airtel authorities.

This post is a tribute to your “newly found marketing strategies” which is making [all sorts of] waves across the IITG campus [in every sense of the phrase ].

At all those times when you tried reaching this loyal(est) customer of yours to spam enlighten him about a new hot number, a national festival and a hello tune, the T20 series and yet another hello tune… xyz + hello tunes aarghhhh , here are (in simple words) few reasons why he could/did not pick up your call and added 6 bucks to your bellies:

a.) He is in the class, figuring out those * EM theory symbols or ‘HMV: his masters voice’. In such bouts of his “monk like concentration”, he prefers not to dance to the Assamese chart busters. Not that the songs are uncool, you just start off without a warning .

sidenote: * for the uninitiated, thank god that you are not in ece, 3rd yr. period.

b.) He is about to sleep. Is in the I half hour of his sleep. In the I hour. the second hour… and so on. At such times, for everyone, we just hates to be disturbed. With all due respect to your noble urge of augmenting our cell phones with the latesht , we swear to everything that is holy and sane that every time we squint at the vibrating cell and recognize those last ….2001, we feel like doing something so unimaginable which iitians phrase as “equating your mother and sister into one“.

sidenote: If I have refused to pick up your call, it is highly unlikely that I would change my decision in the very next 5 minutes! Not even if you message me the same. Is it not simple to understand! You caveman!!!

And now we have our midsems on. And even though we are whiling out time away [writing a post on you etal...], that is none of your concern…..

beeep ……. and here you are calling me again . Be prepared to hear my tender greetings now. And just bloody try replacing this prerecorded lady with a real life one. I would tell her that it is quite painful to even hypothesize what I actually shamelessly say to you . Your voice is sweet. Leave the job. Please .

Song of the day: ajab si from “om shanti om”. I know this is a “totally uncalled for” declaration, but JLT . My Winamp is begging mercy to switch off the repeat mode. This is a tribute to you my friend .

My naive foot demands a pedicure!

The following conversation transpired between me and my mom the last morning. Well umm…… okay, if you aren’t a hostler then yes,  11:30  on a weekday would be like   “yay! 1/2 hr to go for lunch“. But for a hostler like me,  such ” abrupt, unwanted intrusions ” into our brunch routine with Zinta baby are usually followed by mellifluous recitations of some finest “not-so-pleasant” words; literally ear-picked and brought to you from the Anaaj mandies of Saharanpur gaon. Ting Tong.

At first I had mistaken it for the cell’s alarm, the second time I thought it was the following snooze, and I was just about to hang up the third time when my spidy sense said that this persistent caller could be your mum or of course a yet another victim of cyber love ( and by that, all you blinking tubelightes I am alluding to this blog page ).

Anyways, I wasn’t in my senses. My foot ‘was still aching’ and I barely squinted to look for the caller’s name and… 

Me:  hellooo…

~ some line disturbance…

Me:  arre bhai ab bolega kya agle saal yaa pandit se koi muhrat nikalvaaon??  ….err….maaa aap!… hain .. nahi … line disturbence tha… main…dosa khaane gaya tha…haan subah hi naha liya tha….. dosa weekends pe?(~ aapko kaise yaad raha  ) …haan nahi….abhi nahi kiya breakfast…haan brush kar ke khaaonga…haan nahi mujhe laga  alarm  tha!…..hain…jee….theek hai… (well and this then goes on for 13:02 min, the connecting dots are my mom’s share)

. 

Fekta Kapoor,  by the power of Gray Skull, I curse thee for spoling my sweet mum’s mind with those psycho-analytical mind games you teach courtesy your Kyoknki Sasura bhi Kabhi Damaad Tha   Saas bhi kabhi bahu thi, Kahin nahin har roz, Kahani…. yukkk 

May you be married to a close kin of Rimesh Heshamia and have a baby boy who grows up reading me and a baby girl who grows up marrying a guy who.. whooa…. umm….. who also happens to have grown up adulating me.

My wordpress hit counter informed me that one fine gentlemen arrived on this blog, following a google result for “indian +cadbury +dunia chocolate ki” ??  vishwaas nahi hota!! . But so you see, our adulators will then make TV soaps on the themes of our posts. “sue kar doonga canteen…”, ” bunty bubbly… ” etal… way to go

par Rohit tera paer??.. you just mentioned naa?? Is it still hurting??

Aah!, you ppl still remember! how sweet …so touching (waise, had deliberately made it visible, you see Ctr+B). For all the female visitors of this blog fikr naat ladies, we actually got it hurt at the hostel’s birthday ceremony. Dard ho raha hai par theek ho jaaega . And for all those demoniac males,thumping their chests hard and celebrating in unision…. ”saalon tumhaari sun li bhagwaan ne!,  doosare ko bumps maar raha tha khud ke lagg gayi ” . 

For the past two days I have been walking as if I have been sodomized. And to my utter astonishment, the extensive medication meted out to the ” right leg “  is brewing an inexplicable inferiority complex in the ” left leg ” !

So when I drape the ’ rightie ‘  with a Crape Bandage after an hours’ therapeutic warm-water massage, this naive ’ leftie ‘, mistakes it for a pedicure and cries out, “abey oye…. idhar dekh, teri doosari taang. Yeh kya naa-insaafi hai be?? ussse to Dalai Lamha bana diya aur mujhe kya Mahesh Bhatt ki heroine samjha hua hai  .  Lapet warna main bhi kahin ghusataa hoon apna sir “

er…what should we say??… my foot is getting pangs of nudity!!

Random musings..

UPDATE:

A friend just pointed out that the title of thsi post wasn’t apt. So I have just changed “merry” to “random”. kaunsa main title dekh ke likhta hoon! woh to kambakht wordpress waley bina title ke accept nahi karte  

~ now read… 

Solitude can be bliss. And the more time i spend here, in the hinterlands of goooohati, the more close I come to the mother nature. Though it is highly unlikely, but if you happen to be a regular reader of this blog (we both know that we can give 101 reasons, why one would not be),  you might remember that I had once copied posted  a short inspiring  poem . I am trying to live up to it these days.

I now derive pleasure in smallest of chores. So now it’s like if I am chatting with a girl and I find this distant breed of a  ‘ ‘flying-cockroach’ ‘, hovering over my mouse-pad, closely following my conversations (rather i should say imbibing them to later emulate and impress a she-flying-cockroach ) , I do not cry at this plagiarism, neither do I howl or scurry around in the lobby as if I had opened the new Linkin Park’s video and it turned out to be a yet another Rimesh Heshamia’s (or is it Himesh Reshamia) nasal exploit. I just savour the moment for a while, then pick up a jhaadoo (broomstick), and a mug, bring him down carefully while he is still conjuring up plans to meet his inamorata and then SPLASH!

He is inside the mug (aur kar cheating! ).

on a sidenote: no mumma, I do not use that mug for bathing purposes . Infact a recent, horrifying discovery that there is a gang of such he/she flying-cockroaches in my dorm’s bathroom, raring to capture me as i reveal parts of my anatomy and then harrass me, prevents even my err. occasional rendezvous with water (and I am still a long way to elevate to the stature of our Hon. Rakhi Sawant, who might just dismiss such regular breach of privacy, saying that the script bathroom demanded it )

This world is full of aspirations, expectations, competition, faliures, miseries and what not. And as much as I like to blog on serious issues like Globalization, Global Warming, Pakistan’s  ambiguous policy over Talibaan, The Shilpa-Gere brouhaha etal…. (on which incidentally, I do not ) I am deeply moved when I read/hear someone getting crushed under this heavy load of expectations and aspirations. 

I have no sympathies for people who do not work hard and then crib and carp about the education system and the burgeoning studies, but for people who really do put in their utmost efforts, almost reach the top and then fade away either because of financial troubles or the un-conducive environment, I do feel much more than just sorry. Watch this link;  a 91%er of XII boards commits suicide . And I have no words to describe what might be going on with his parents. But seriously people, would you answer me :  What the fugg were the NGOs doing? All the money that they rake in from the World Bank; I mean isn’t it their responsibility to help such cases? Heart weeps.

But fikr naat junta, with whatever little resources you have at your disposal; you can help some people . You can give this blog’s link to those who missed their JEE by a whisker, thereby actually substantiating the claim that their is nothing much sacrosanct about the so called IITs and that some crazy demented souls like us are still able to circumvent its portals and spread such vitiating literature via net!

I assure you my friends that the intellectual status of this blog will speak volume for itself

To doston hasso, gaao, din bhar naachne ke baad funtaasss ki goli khaao aur so jaao but still if you find some time out of your busy schedule, then do think about that familiy’s loss and if you can, take some time to ponder over this phrase:

Priviledge confers Opportunity;

Opportunity confers Responsibility.

Of Transformational Vocab and Bunty Bubbly :)

Anthony Robbins- a peak performance consultant and coach, coins a term “Transformational Vocabulary”.

“Simply by changing your habitual vocabulary—the words you consistently use to describe the emotions of your life—you can instantaneously change how you think, how you feel, and how you live.”

Lessen your negative emotions and intensify the positive ones.

Don’t just say I am feeling good, say I am cosmically recharged! You cannot be just happy, say aloud that you are ecstatic, jazzed, totally-blessed. If its terrefic, say outrageous. You would clearly feel the difference in the passion levels of your work.

Likewise, replace old disempowering negative emotions like anxious, depressed, rejected to “a little expectant”, “calm before action”, “misunderstood”. These small steps, when well practiced shall deter you from stacking un-necessary negative energies……

So going by the rules, now when you flunk in a math course; say to your mom that you just wish to strengthen your roots. Say its learning, not a failure

So you see, Articulation is the key……hey! Didn’t we coin such terms just some posts ago!! (remember The Indian institute of day dreamers) So what if we call this principle “The Bunty Bubbly Siddhant” and not some glossy, fancy jargon-ic “Transformational Vocabulary”, bhaavnaaon ko samjho yaar!

Scene I: ECE lab (digital circuit design of a sinusoidal wave generator)

Group 1: the members are paragons of sincerity (the uninitiated souls )

Members fidgeting out with resistances and ICs in their desperate attempts to get a wave with a three point accuracy.

Member ‘A-’ checking and re-checking the datasheets of the ICs used, their temperature dependences, current capacities, power ratings, level of doping ….bass kar yaar!. ‘B-’ just got the much needed 368ohm resistor from a heap last sorted out 2 months back (patience paid off ,finally). ‘C-’ has left no recourse in twisting and turning the nobs of the oscilloscope but he still couldn’t get sin 90 =1. Its still showing .978 ??

(on a side-note: the concerned oscilloscope has filed a complaint against such man-handling to the All India Hardware Association)

TA comes for his occasional sortie, looks at these exasperated souls…and moves on.

Group 2: three to tango, staunch adherents of the Bunty Bubbly Principles :

‘A+’ on the compu, cursing reading the datasheets (gawking at orkut’s femme fatals alternatively). ‘B+’ is off for a coffee sip (got bored of toe twiddling, so needed a change). ‘C+’, the sanest of them all, picks up some ICs at random, assorts them with some wires and resistances and gets some waveform on the scope (which is by no means decipherable)!!….neways we all clap …TA comes.

TA: So, it seems that you have got the sine wave??

A and C (impromptu): couldn’t have been better, sir. You see, the deviations from the real sinusoid can be attributed to the fact that rather then interpolating the curve to three places of decimals, we deployed some heuristic procedures to zero in on the exact waveform with minimum circuitry, but blame it on the glitches present and scope’s limited resolution, each value got shifted by some places and is seeming to be incomprehensible. Sir, we just thought of trying something more practical!!. (poor us, lets all make a solemn face)

TA, totally baffled, murmers “ehh..you got me again!!”, burps and coos: yaa fine, superb. Nice approach. You might get better with time! and please, next time you put your creativity at fore, call the professor.

All of us (in unison): yes sir. …..jai bunty bubbly!!

So you see Raabert er… Robbins, we have been practicing our wares since time immemorial. And you thought that we would be so naive to give it into your “trans-vocab” jargon….huh.

 

Indian Institute Of Day dreamers….

Do you remember your childhood days when your teacher used to inspire you with that old classic.. “nanhe munhe bachche teri muthhi mein……??” ……..madam, chatmola!! Nice one naa. I know!!

And then they would fondly ask you “Beta bade hoke kya karnaa chahoge??“.

“err… madam….shaadi ??”, instant riposte . You see naivety at its best!.

But anyways, fikr not you junta, this post is not about our wits and retorts. This post is dedicated to “the long cherished dreams” of all those millions of people out there who pledge not to read us again and again.

We wish to inspire you to acknowledge your dreams. That small fire in your heart that craves to be fanned. That little thing which urges you to differentiate yourself from the others. Break free from your inhibitions which have for long precluded the “real you” and speak your hearts out……. “Preeiiiity wd ya….err….”. Sorry, got carried away

Focus Rohit, Focus. Right. So where were we….. ya.. Dreamzzzz…

Martin Luther King had a dream. Gandhiji had a dream. Mungerilaal had one. We also have er…. we have many. But for the matter, we want to sound a little more realistic. We want to build up on our strengths and in the process help the masses. Benevolence you see..

So, we plan to start an institution . “Indian Institute Of Day Dreamers“(I2D2).

All great discoveries, all great inventions have spawned from a dream. Bill Gates dreamt big, dropped out of college and now look at him. Steve jobs, ceo Apple Inc. also a Rice college drop out. Google guys, Standford phd (still to complete). Sachin Tendulker (Dasvi fael). But legends they are.

So what is so sacrosanct about the current education system ?? huh! nothing, zero, zilch, shoonya …

And this is where (I2D2) steps in. We enjoin you to dream big. Dream about your future. And dream forever. We have literally culled up faculties from all around the globe who have mastered this art of “incessant staring at the ceiling” to a mind numbing perfection.

Another major area of emphasis would be “verbal sleight of the tongue“. Nice phrase naa. I know . Glossing our inherent ignorance with oral chicanery is the area we have elevated to, beyond the reach of mere mortals. So you see “oral subterfuge” is our forte and we would love to see it in you too.

We will churn out a new breed of graduates who will define their own success mantras.

• When the going gets though, abort, try differently.
• To err is human and we are no machines.
• If you can fake it, plzz by all means do (why waste time) !! more to come………

Books we prescribe:

• Mungerilaal ke haseen sapney.
• Abort Your Eggs Before They Hatch.
• Do Managers Dream of Electric Sheep?
• The power of procrastination.

So you see, we are determined to start our own race. Join our legions and dare to think beyond.

What men really want!

This is when you do when you have four dayz loooong holidays!. Velle, as we always are, we thought of trying our hands at plagiarism   
So this one we successfully copied from Jassi bhaiya’s archive:

Enjoy this. 

At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down.  Finally, the guys’ side of the story. (I must admit, it’s pretty good.) We always hear “the rules”  from the female side.  Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules!
Please note:  These are all numbered “1″…  ON PURPOSE!

1.  Men ARE not mind readers.

1.  Learn to work the toilet seat.  You’re a big girl.  If it’s up, put it down.  We need it up, you need it down.  You don’t hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1.  Sunday sports.  It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides.  You can’t change it, let it be.

1.  Shopping is NOT a sport.  And no, we are never going to think of it that way.

1.  Crying is blackmail.

1.  Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one:
Subtle hints do not work!
Strong hints do not work!
Obvious hints do not work!
Just say it!

1.  Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1.  Come to us with a problem ONLY IF you want help solving it.  That’s what we do.  Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1.  A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem.  See a doctor.

1.  Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument.  In fact, all comments become Null and Void after 7 Days.

1.  If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, DON’T expect us to act like Soap Opera guys.

1.  If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us.

1.  If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one .

1.  You can either ask us to do something  OR tell us how you want it done. Not both.  If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1.  Whenever possible, Please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

1.  Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.

1.  ALL men see in ONLY 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, NOT a color.  Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what Mauve is.

1.  If it itches, it WILL be scratched.  We do that.

1.  If we ask what is wrong and you say “nothing,” we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know that you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1.  If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, then Expect an answer you don’t
want to hear.

1.  When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine… Really.

1.  Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about, unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as football, the shotgun formation, cars or golf.

1  You have ENOUGH clothes.

1.  You have TOO MANY shoes.

1.  I am in shape. Round IS a shape!

1.  Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight; But did you know men really don’t mind that?  It’s like camping.

Of birthday and bumps…..

It was 12 at midnight. I knew they would be coming. I had tried hard to console my apprehensive mind that it would be less painful this time but for no avail.

A gentle knock at my door step and that was all. They said it was time and I humbly obliged.

What else could i have done?. I had done everything within my limits to curb this news but what is inevitable is inevitable!. News spread like wildfire and now i could see them waiting for me as if werewolves were to be feasted on a billy goat.

Bassss bhaiyon aur behno ….yeh koi movie ki script nahi hai. Naa hi Azad ki autobiography ke panne hai.

This was the hostel’s birthday “ceremony”.

Two fresh lumps of flesh served at your free kick. Unleash the Gerrad, Rooney and Ronaldo and at your lesuire aim for a Cross, Penalty or a Free kick while the innocent victim (who happens to be the er… birthday boy) counts the stars in the sky . This marks the start of your glorious baddday!!

Such is the life’s travesty.

Happy Birthday to me

Yeh Sab Moh Mayaa hai!

This blogger is aware of his virtual identity which exists courtesy this blog page. It is this “chotti si” window which when he sees on his 17″ monitor gives him some relief and respite from the faaast and “no-mercy” dunia.

Cutting the crap……..” he has got his midsem scripts” .  Screwed them up royally !!

Now we see a major chunk of our readers raising their fingers at us, saying  ” koi nayi baat hai to bataao“……… to bhaiyon aur behnon, this time yours truly blogger has managed to “zero-in” on the class average!!….i.e. his marks have become the landmarks

So it happened one day that he was walking down the campus’s roads, trudging the path with a solemn face feigning strong emotions of an imminent constipation, deeply engrossed in his all intriguing thoughts ….(okay, he was thinking if Preity would reeeeally marry Ness or he still stands a chance…..)  that his inner voice screamed out…..

“arre  baavle, ab to “pantar-giri” aur “ladiez-lafda” chhod ke padai mein lag jaa”

He sat down for a while, contemplated on the various issues which were coaxing him to leave his “true nature”  , and then discarded them one by one as irrelevant and insignificant against the above mentioned million dollar ques. and thus resumed his whimsical fantasies of finding the odds against “Preity” becoming “Preity Pande” in near future   .

So you see, this once naive blogger is now transcending such plebeian dilemmas and thinking of larger pictures. Sign of maturity eh…

Naam mein kya rakha hai….Bhavnaon ko samjho!!

All my life i have been intrigued by this inversly proportional relationship. Call it a power of observation or inf. vellappa but i have successfully compiled some 135 instances where this principle can be seen/felt even through naked eyes!.

It all started when i was a kid and my only exposure to the retail revolution was limited to my rendezvous with a confectionery shop. I used to wonder as to why big brands like nestle and cadbury sell less toffees for the same price whereas my all time fav. “chatmola” people valued quantity!!. You get only one eclairs per rupee but come chatmola and you have “14 golias for 50p.” and “30 for one rupee“. The nestle guyz couldn’t minimize on their cost of production and i remained loyal to my brand. But whenever i used to run down the streets with the chatmolas in my hand, a nicker around my waist, feeding even stray dogs and some poor children on my way, some people used to give me pooris and aaloo ki sabzi .

I had this delusion that they were acknowledging my kind gesture but later i realized that they were the “free-lunch agency” people who used to spot stray children and the chatmola in my hand only aided in the process.

“All great things come in small packages“. I have lived up with this anodyne all through my childhood. Inversly proportional relationship working again. So whenever Tendulkar used to thrash the daunting ausies, i used to marvel at this quote and hop onto the crease ready to take on Bunti’s bouncers. And in no time with growing perfection and finesse, i got recognition as “beech ka bichchu” and “kachchi mitti“. I was even deemed worthy for the post of match refry in our mohalla matches, a post where you only find ex-cricketers and old legends!!.

I rose to fame at such a tender age cheers Tendulkar

Out of the many other things that intrigued me further, one worth mentioning and a bit consternating phenomena is that “the best gal in your vicinity will club with the most “champak” banda” you can spot around. On my constant pestering about some clarifications regd. the same, my counselor mam gave me a big text “What women wants“. I gave her her tome back and instead chose to continue with my “champak“.

Some latest developments in this field of paradoxes have been with the “quality of my thought process and the place of their birth“. We all know that Archimedes discovered the buoyancy principle while he was taking a bath and i am sure that many of you would agree with me that we also witness some sensational, nerve wrenching theories while completing our morning chores. But off late this process has successfully dragged itself to my lecture halls.

So while the teacher is explaning the intricacies of laser generation, i am deeply engrossed in the thought as to how can perhaps a “World orgasm (no typos) day” aid in world peace ?? I know you skeptic junta won’t believe in the power of this natural phenomena and the quantum level reseach associated with it, so here’s the [link].

While our communications teacher tries hard to explain us the mathematical derivation of the veil which surrounds a bandpass signal, i marvel and wonder whether the “Muslim women’s reply to bikini”: Burqini would be able to bring a social revolution in Arab nations and whether we would see Emraan Haashmi with an Arabian cabre dancer in the next Mahesh Bhatt’s venture Again for the skeptics ( omg! watch out for some current affairs, doode), here’s the [link].

That’s all my frnds, a short post yet again and to all those people who have taken pains in going through all this crap i would love if you can post some more natural phenomenas postulating this “Inversly proportional” relationship.

But even as i wrap up this post, a million dollar question stands in my way……” Is post ko main kya naam doon??” par bhaiyo aur beheno, save one ……. Naam mein kya rakha hai….Bhavnaon koi samjho!!

PS: My all time fav. brand, Chatmola has come up with some new refreshing flavors: “Satmola”, “aam Pachan” and that too at the same price: “14 golias for 50p.” and “30 for one rupee“. Nestle pp. could only manage to shell out a 5o p. eclairs !!.

All hail MITHUN DA…

It’s 2:30 in the night. And i know that this is no time to write a post, especially when you have just watched a movie which has reminded you of your good, old horrible, dreadful childhood days.

Those chilly winters when we innocent, devotee misguided, ignorant kids used to peep out of our school bus’s windows just to sneak a preview of our much revered dance master/disco dancer’s ( Lord Mithun-da’s) new release and then flip channels and bunk homework time for practicing and mastering those impeccable dance steps and those powerful quotes and dialogs to woo our mohalla galz.

Those golden words “aaaaeeee salaaaa” and those skillfuly crafted phrases which had words literally culled out from myraids other options just to give them a distinct “feeeel factor”.

“Bheegi Hui Cigarette Jal Nahin Sakti, Tere Maut Ke Date Fixed Hain Tal Nahin Sakti” (Just as a wet fag cannot be lit, the day of your death also cannot be changed).

“Tu bina petrol ki gaadi hai, Bina nashe ki taadi hai,Tu woh fateli saari hai, Jo ek hijda bhi nahin pehnegi” (too powerful to translate)!!

I really had to do a lotta research to fetch these rare compositions

And for those of you who on the contrary grew up watching Al Pachino and other firangi maal, who relished and savoured on their hip-hop POP channels while we just toggled between DD1 and DD2, i take this as my solemn duty to remind you of a world renown phenomena “MITHUNISM” and it’s creator “MITHUN CHAKROBORTY“. After a lotta research i could finally find my long lost fraternity* on the net and that movie which revived and triggered those feelings in me today urged me to give recognition to my brethren. Those thousands and millions of indians who have grown up on a staple diet of mithun da’s movies and thus the POST.

So what was that cathartic movie??….It was this new-release-all-time-flop ARYAN. The name totally belies the movie content cause there is nothing so regal in the movie and it starts and ends with the same plot as that of the many mithun da’s cult movies. Our er…hero being brutally beaten up by the villain, so much so that he is gasping for breath and is oozing out profusely. In normal circumstances the other guy would win but Ding Dong!! here’s a twist, our heroineee comes out from nowhere, jumping all trafficlights and reaching at the xact final call, cries out “yess you a**hole, you can do it!!” and then all of a sudden our hero gets BOOST energy and he lands on A or rather THE “final punch” on the villain’s face and that’s it. Now what’s the myth behind these hidden reservoirs of energies is still a matter of conjecture and a lot of research is going on that direction.

Obviously there is no moral of the story and i would advice you to watch it only if you are missing our beloved “mithun da” (for the members of the community* it’s a must, cause we might have a GD, discussing and comparing this surrogate mithun with the original).
—————————–That’s it, bye for now———————————-

PS *: according to some statistics our fraternity’s (mithun bhakts) reach is far beyond that of the Illuminati or the Priory of Sion.

———————————–Added later—————————————-

Continuing my eternal quest for Mithun Da’s quotes i take this opportunity to add some more:

> Yeh mera khoon nahin, krodh ka rang hain. Chatega ise?
(This is not my blood, but the color of my rage. Want to lick it?)

Watch out for this space for more add-ons!!

Catharsis!!

DISCLAIMER:
Though the probability tends to zero but still if you happen to belong to the female fraternity of my insti, then by all means press (alt+f4) and navigate away!!…..don’t ask why JUST DO IT!!
Anybody else is most welcome to savour my yet another new creation, a err.. delightful and cathartic post. An attempt by the blogger to present his life’s predicament to the readers..

THE BLOG:
His school life was quite remarkable. He was the eye-candy of his teachers and starred in the “who’s-who” list of his school. But inspite of such a huge fan following, this moron led a quintessential student’s life!!
He fell into the trap of the old adage: “sabr ka fal meetha hota hai” ..and ruined his 11-12th preparing for the most revered JEE. No doubt, with his bubbling intellect he entered the hallowed portals of IIT but only to realize that he had missed out on a corollary to that maxim: “ banzar zameen par fal kahan “!!

The femme fatales of his alma-mater, also reffered as ” parts per million guy ” contribute to the dwindling 19:1 ratio which along with the overarching assignments have perhaps been diagnosed as the rasion-de-tere of the growing no. of suicides by the iitians!!
Oh god!! save our souls!
Though the city offers some respite as it fashions some really haute, gorgeous chinkis but then he and his friends are not enamoured by the idea of learning assamese to further the conversation.
So, awestruck and totally baffeled, they look out for help and as a final resort raise their concerns for the ” Women Reservation in IITs “.
The future looks bleak and if things carry on this way (and they seem to be! ), then a time will come when the blogger will renounce everthing and head for the Kamakhya hills, leading an ascetic life there after 
Writing TOI’s “The speaking tree” column is also an option though.

O.K…..enough of frustaapa poured and enough of cribbing done….He is not that despo and is still somehow able to maintain his sanity in public places but as a parting question he would love to ask :
“Do really iitians get beautiful wives??“

asuvidha ke liye khed hai…

This post is just to intimate my readers that their “insane” blogger will be back with an update soon. He is aware of his pending commitment of blogging on a topic of “general interest”….and by all means he will deliver his post soon, sincerely !!

He was well on with his research on the fairer sex until one day when he paid a chance/unfortunate trip to CP, seeing the swarm of gorgeous ladies all around himself, he got lost in bewilderment !.When he regained his conscious he realized that his behaviours were quite akin to that of a skeptic tibetian monk placed in the las vegas streets . Completely jolted, he shrugged himself and in a melancholic mood started humming “akela hoon main -raeth” .

Have patience, cause he will have to be circumspect enough not to harm neone’s sentiments!….(o.k. he doesn’t gives it a damn ) but he is in process of completing the draft…….

With much greif and profound sense of loss….

…..we announce the departure of our alter ego, our long and luscious locks , slain down by the mercyless UMT(under mango tree) barber’s unforgiving scissors.

They fought badly for their survival even frustated the enemy who got lost in myraids of nooks and corners but they finally succumbed to the superior manpower

We regret the distress this would cause to millions of ladies back home whose only ambition in life was to run their long fingers through our silky hairs but we hope that they will understand that this has been done to placate our “mom” who would love to see her “raja beta” back home like an ideal bachcha with his hairs dipped in tonnes of oil and firmly adhered to the scalp .

Pray you people for the departured soul souls(er…they are many) and we hope they will come with a replacement soon !

“math illiteracy affects 5 out of every 4 individuals”…….

I was trudging my way to the hostel room after the the “maths-201 end semester examination” when i saw a guy carrying this caption on his T-shirt….and it sparked up my thought process !! …. and even though i was feeling a bit low after the exam , i had no option (as always) but to succumb to this inner compelling desire of writing a post !!

You see, frailties of human mind !…..and so, here i am, again !!

Math , as defined in a “good book” is a complex theory that if two bits are one way, the other bits will be another way, except for when there are three bits, or five bits, in which case they will be a completely different way. UTTER NONSENSE .

Confused ?? hehehe…so are “we” .

But our saga dates back to the fall of “august-2005″ , when a bunch of students (more specifically , KAPILI-ites) were revealed the dark side of this “jig-saw puzzle” :

real ANALYSIS : We kept marvelling at the works of Cauchy, Riemann, Eular …. the way they made even seemingly trivial claims like  “0+0=0″  , a paragraph long proofs , further spiced up with some δ , ε . Have a look : ∀ε>0 ∃δ>0 ∋ 0<|x-a|<δ⇒|ƒ_(x)-L|<ε .

linear AL  GEBRA : statuory warning and a course preamble -”some international statistics show that an AL-quaida’s captivation is far much better and safer than this course’s training. BUT WERE WE GIVEN A CHOICE ?.

PDE’s and COMPLEX ANALYSIS : The course this semester . I have lost counts as to how many times we just gazed at the incessant scribblings of our “respected prof “. Some really naive questions like ” Why the hell are we studying this ” met with some real entertaining and sarcastic remarks .

But one important achievement after these course : We have probably compiled a huge no. of variables (alfa, beta, gamma, zie, fie, eta, delta …..) . You name them and we will tell you where we used them , why we did so shall not be the subject of discussion though .

chalo yaar bahut ho gaya , will wrap up this post now.

But do comment on this seemingly awkward post if you identify yourself with it.

The F**k fest (end sems) beckons…

… and I can feel that sensation again …. the dawn of a new era , soon I will witness people scurrying around in the hostel with bits and pieces of notes , some souls desperately trying out to catch up with some sleep between these heavy bouts of cramming and yes, nescafe and pepsi co. foods recording their all time high sales in our canteen .

Hell , noooooo it’s ENDSEMS time again .

and WHAT the hell am i doing here ??? nothing , just posting another rambling of this crazy mind !!

Exams and me!! … it’s been long since we have known each other , courtesy our sacrosanct education system .They have always been there , sprouting up and adding a ‘dash’ (fill this up) to my life just when everything seemed to be going normal .Though we had our share of tiffs and misunderstandings but now finally we have conceded to a point .

“We cannot always / can never placate each other.”

How this state of equanimity has been reached is not the subject of this post but clearly, they proved their point when they just knocked me out in the midsems …… and now , as i am (trying to) prepare for their next innings , they are ogling at me !! as if a bangladeshi tailender is taking stance against Brett Lee !!

I have been trying to show my devotion to them by listening to the “lakshya movie song ” but nothing seems to be working out …. lack of the ” Preity Zinta ” effect is surely an imp. reason which i hv figured out……ohh god!! mercy plzz. , send her quickly !!
But neways , jokes apart , all i can say is that “a day will come” when i will finally enslave these burgeoning enemies .

Ofcourse, a day will come when the Sun will die .

PS: pardon me for choosing such an obscene name for the topic but i just wished to present it true to it’s face-value !!.
PPS: new playlist – “my humps – Black Eyed Peas ” , it’s awesome , really!!

kyonki SAAS bhi kabhi BAHU thi ….

So , after the much revered series of the west ( friends , smallville , how i met your mom , lost , the class , desperate housewives……) iitg community welcomes a new enterant ….. the all time high melodrama “Kyonki….” has finally made it’s way through the hallowed portals of DC++ (our lan server client).

The news has been met with a lot of appreciations and the downloaders praised highly( pun intended ) …….one of the devotee of this cult series got a bit “senti-penti” over BAAA getting embroiled in a fight with one of her BAHU   BAHU’s (BAHU) BAHU’s(BAHU’s(BAHU))    errrr….. o.k. with mrs. X and then this guy was ridiculed like anything over the mess table…. he was really trying hard to change the topic of the discussion but we won’t budge ….

You know what , whenever a great soul rises to the occasion and makes his presence felt by doing some kind of highly applaudable works like these (pun intended again !!) he earns the much coveted rank of The “Lowest Common Denominator”…i.e. morons are judged by him , as in like if somebody says “2+2=5″(for e.g.) we will say, “***** hai kya?? jaa Kyonki dekh !! and this goes on until we find another suitable hier!!

Neways ….. to see the optimistic side , we have finally got something to raise our E.Q levels .

P.S: for all the devotees reading this post (especially , members of the female fraternity) , we can gift you the DVDs of the seasons available (sorry it’s a typo , there’s no concept of seasons out here) ….neways order FAST !! cause you never know when these ppl might run out of their disc space because of the other new series waiting in their hot list ….Kasauti , Kumkum , Kahani to name a few .

somebody HELP me!!

“I will have enough time to SLEEP once I am DEAD” -Benjamin Franklin.
“I only wish that one day i will get to the gravity of this thought “- Rohit Pande ……and win the battle of bed !!

I was supposedly one of the ideal bacchcha out here!! “early to BED early to RISE”…….though now seems to have alienated the latter part..

Though,with all due respect i still put up a 5′o clock alarm (ppl. say getting up with the sun is a nice habbit..)………but here’s a turn off :

NOTE: “this junta excludes my iitian fraternity” + “sun on this eastern front of india suffers from insomnia!!! gets up at around 4′o clock…….” and so the aforesaid wisdom perk stands null n void here!!

and so it’s like..5′o snooze….5′o5 snooze…….5′0:10 snooze…..AND then “BaNG” i pull off the trigger !! (naa rahegi baans naa bajegi baansuri!! )……… n i find my self contented with the kabir’s quote:

” aaj kare so kal kar

kal kare so parson

samay ki chinta naa kar pyaare

samay pada hai barson”

amen to kabir…….bhaad mein jaaye Benjamin Franklin !!